by Lea Hart
“Hank is controlling and bossy.”
“And I imagine a lot of other things too.”
“Yes, he’s courageous, smart, handsome, honorable, and a little funny.”
“So, tell him how you feel and see what happens.”
“I don’t know, Mama…”
“Think about it.” She stood and walked over to the stove. “Go tell Papa dinner is almost ready. We’re having pierogis and some nice roast chicken.”
“Did you cook for Hank when he was here?”
“I cook every night. You think I’m not going to feed a guest?”
“Of course not. I just wondered if he enjoyed it.”
Putting her hand on her hip, she pointed the spoon at Stazi. “Everybody enjoys my cooking. Him especially.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.”
“Don’t talk nonsense and go get your father.”
“Yes, Mama.”
***
Stazi walked into her father’s workshop and inhaled the familiar scent of paint, lacquer, and solvents. The combination was one of her favorites and probably had something to do with the career she chose. “Hi, Papa.”
“Ангел, you finally come see your old papa.”
Her father had been calling her Angel for as long as she could remember and she didn’t mind hearing it now. “Mama says it’s time for dinner.”
“Is Hank here or are you two still in a spat?”
“Just me, Papa.”
“He’s a nice boy. I don’t mind if he comes again, but maybe not stay so long next time.”
Stazi ignored the comment and wandered around her father’s workshop. “What are you working on?”
He flipped up his magnifying glasses and held up a small square. “I’m adding the horses to the painting. What do you think?”
Carefully, Stazi took the treasure into her hands and studied the intricate detail of the farm scene her father was creating. “Are you still using the brushes made of squirrel hair?”
“Yes, can you see how they allow me to create the right texture for the animals?”
“It’s beautiful, Papa.”
“You want me to make you a papier-mâché box so that you can paint it?”
“Just like when I was little.” Handing the box back to her father, she shrugged. “I don’t have time to paint right now. The Modigliani project is taking up all of my time.”
Leaning back, her father collected his paint brushes and then put them into a glass jar. “How is old Amedeo holding up against all the scrutiny?”
“So far so good. We have completed the initial examination of ‘Madam Pompadour’ and are moving on to the next set of tests. We used a computer to analyze the brushstrokes and then employed a technique called infrared reflectography.”
“Infa what?”
“It’s an infrared camera that lets us see what is below the surface of the paint. It’s fascinating to see what’s invisible to the eye.”
“So much science is used for everything. Are you ever going to just examine the painting with your eyes?”
“Of course, Papa. At some point, I will be counting the strings in the canvas to see if they match paintings produced at the same time.”
“Now, that I understand.” Swiveling on his chair, he raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do about that man who’s heart you broke?”
Stomping her foot, Stazi let out a groan. “I did no such thing. He is the one who is breaking things.”
Holding up a hand, he shook his head. “Women are a thousand times stronger than men when it comes to affairs of the heart.” Tilting his chin toward the house, he let out a laugh. “When I met your mother, I had just completed my military service and I thought I was—what you call it—hot shit?”
“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”
Waving his hand, he smiled. “Anyway, I thought a lot of myself because I was a trained soldier and had survived deployment to Afghanistan. You probably don’t remember but the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan lasted nine years and the mujahideen never gave up. Almost a million people died in the conflict.”
“You never really talked about it, Papa.”
“Not something you want to remember, Anastasia. Where was I going with this?”
“Women are stronger than men.”
“Of course. So, I came back from war and I’m about to enter university and I think I am real man because I had been in war. You know…very tough, not afraid of anything, and then I met your mother.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing for a very long time. We became friends and it took me almost a year to ask her out. Big, tough soldier was afraid of small, beautiful woman.”
“What made you decide to finally do something about your feelings?”
“Your mother let me know that she would very much like to spend time with me and so I invited her to dinner and we’ve been together ever since.”
“Good thing Mama knew what she wanted. If it were up to you this whole family might never have happened.”
“I would’ve gotten there eventually.”
Patting her father’s big shoulder, she laughed. “Sure, Papa.”
“I enjoyed getting to know Hank. We had a lot to talk about and he enjoyed hearing my stories about Afghanistan.”
“You fought one war and thirty years later he was fighting another.”
“Another thirty years, there will be a new one. It’s the nature of the world.”
Stazi moved around some tubes of paint and then looked out the small window of the workshop. “So, what should I do Papa?”
“If you love him, then don’t make yourself suffer by being stubborn.”
“He started it.”
“So, you end it. When he was here, he talked endlessly about how he felt about you and what kind of life he wanted to build. He also made us tell him every story we could remember about you. He came to the shop and sat with me while I worked on a suit and peppered me with questions. Good thing I’m a natural storyteller. Otherwise, the whole thing could’ve been a disaster.”
“Are you going to make him a suit too?”
“Of course. He wears those awful canvas pants and T-shirts. I told him if he wanted my daughter to take him seriously, then he needed to wear better clothes.”
“Papa, I don’t care about clothes and you know it.”
Covering his ears, he shook his head. “Don’t say such things. Your mama and I have made you a beautiful wardrobe and we expect you to wear it.”
“Of course, Papa.” Looking at the small clock on the table, she took her father’s hand. “Let’s go in because the last thing we want is Mama complaining about us being late for dinner.”
“True. No need to make her upset if we can avoid it.”
“Is that what you’ve done to have a happy marriage?”
He picked up the jar with his paintbrushes, then turned off the light over his worktable. “We both do it. We each try and do the things that will make the other happy and avoid the things that will cause a fight. It’s not rocket science. It’s simply doing the right thing.”
They walked out of his workshop as the sun began sinking in the sky, and Stazi realized that relationships could be as easy or as difficult as you made them. Her parents had figured out how to live and work together with very little conflict and she should be able to do the same thing with Hank.
All it was going to take was time and patience.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Friday, July 14
Hank walked up to his front door and heard the faint sound of music. Looking around, he couldn’t determine where it was coming from. Shrugging, he pressed his hand to the panel next to the door and noticed that someone had entered over two hours ago.
Which was fucking impossible.
Sliding the gun out of his arm holster, he slowly pushed the door open and was assaulted with the fragrance of garlic, lemon, and cheese. He let a breath out and then placed the gun back
into its holster. Taking his time, he slowly walked down the hall and prayed that what he thought was happening, actually was. When he rounded the corner and stepped into his kitchen, he felt his heart drop through his chest.
Stazi was standing at the island, cooking.
He cleared his throat and then rubbed his hand across his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When he saw her look up and give him a smile, he almost fell on his ass. “Hi, honey,” he said.
Pointing a knife in his direction, she gave him a warm smile. “Dinner won’t be ready for at least thirty minutes. So, if you want to take a shower, you have plenty of time.”
“I’ll wait till later to grab one because I’d rather spend time with you.”
“Lucky told me you were not bathing regularly and, if that’s the case, then I’d rather you got cleaned up before we sat down.”
“That was just the first week. I’m back to acting like a grown-up, so you don’t have to worry.”
“Excellent. There is a bottle of wine in the fridge. Would you mind opening it up while I get the artichokes ready for the oven?”
“Sure, no problem.” As he walked over to the fridge, he kept an eye on Stazi so he could confirm that she wasn’t a mirage. As far as he was concerned, this could still be a dream, and he didn’t want to miss a second in case it was. As he passed her, he smelled her lemony scent and knew she was no mirage.
His fingers itched as he opened the fridge and pulled out the bottle of wine and he prayed he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by grabbing her and hugging the shit out her. Because that’s exactly what he wanted to do. “How was your day, honey?”
“It was good. We are starting on the next series of tests for ‘Madam Pompadour’ and hope to have everything completed by the end of November.”
“The old girl give you any surprises yet?” He made quick work of opening the bottle of wine and quickly poured her a glass. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” She slid the pan of artichokes into the oven and then picked up her glass of wine and leaned against the counter. “No, she’s exactly what we expected. There weren’t any drawings beneath the surface of the painting and the analysis from the computer scan should be back by next week.”
“Good news, right?”
“Absolutely.” She took a sip of wine and gave him a smile.
Whatever was happening was so surreal that he didn’t know what his next move should be. Pretend they never had a fight, ask her what the hell was going on…what should he do? “I’m going to grab a beer and then you can tell me what you want me to help with.”
“Nothing right now.”
He watched her take a seat at the island and cross her legs. “So…”
“I bet you would like to know why I broke into your condo and took over your kitchen.”
“It’s not breaking in—if you have the code for the front door.”
“True.”
He took a beer out of the fridge and then grabbed a seat next to her. After twisting off the cap, he held the bottle up. “Here’s to wonderful surprises.”
Stazi clinked her glass and then took a sip of her wine. “I came by to see—”
“Stazi, before you say anything, I want you to know that I was a complete ass that night, and the whole fight was my fault, and if you want to go on dates and make sure you’re interested in seeing me, then I’m totally fine with it. I’d rather have a little of you than none at all.”
He watched her stand and step between his legs. Please God, let her say yes. “I mean it. You want to see me once a week, then that’s totally okay. I know you’ve got a lot going on at work, and you probably have friends you’d like to get together with, not to mention a yoga or spin class, and then there’s laundry and stuff and well…” Her fingers covered his mouth and he decided to shut up.
“Hank, I love you.”
“You what?” he mumbled against her fingers.
“I love you with my whole heart and I want to see if we can come up with a relationship that makes us both happy.”
“You love me?”
“Yes, I do.”
He stood abruptly, lifted her up, and swung her around in a circle as he shouted, “Hallelujah!”
“I guess it makes you happy.”
He wrapped her legs around his waist and held her firmly against his chest. “I love you, Staz, and you have just made me the happiest man in the world. I thought that I’d lost you by being an overbearing asshole.”
“To be honest, the overbearing part of your personality is not my favorite and I’d like to see a little less of it in the future.”
Walking out of the kitchen, he headed over to the couch and sat down. Arranging her body as close to his as possible, he buried his face in her neck and drank in her scent. “I love you, Staz, so very much.”
“I love you too.”
He lifted his face and took in her beauty. “I’m sorry I lost my temper and gave you an ultimatum. I was so overwhelmed with all that had gone on that I wasn’t thinking straight and I made a mess of things.”
“I feel the exact same way, Hank.” She slipped her hand under his T-shirt and pressed her fingers against his heart. “I just wanted to have a bath and relax and I didn’t feel like I could say that because you’d just saved my life. I didn’t want to be selfish.”
“You wanted a bath and an hour of quiet time?”
Leaning her head against his chest, she mumbled her reply. “Yes.”
“Holy shit, that’s not what I got out of the conversation at all.”
She lifted her head and let out a laugh. “Because I didn’t say that. I told you something completely different and it pushed a button in you.”
“Yeah, I definitely thought you wanted to stop seeing me, and the whole dating thing you brought up was just a way to let me down easy.”
“That’s not even close to what I was thinking.”
“I got butt-hurt and took it out on you.”
“I did the same thing.”
The timer on the oven rang and she started to crawl out of his lap. “The first course is served.”
Before he let her go, he pulled her back into his lap and held her face. “Since we love each other, we should kiss.”
“Just one, though…”
Holding her, he brought their lips together and then sealed his mouth against hers. The moment they were fused together, fireworks went off in his head. It was by far the singularly best moment of his life. The woman who was his other half loved him and he couldn’t ask for more. The anger, anxiety, and fear that had been his constant companion for the last seventeen days completely disappeared.
The timer rang again and Stazi lifted her mouth away from his. “As much as I like kissing you, I don’t want our appetizers to burn.”
“Okay, honey.” He stood with her in his arms and walked back to the kitchen.
“You can let me down, Hank.”
“I don’t really want to, but I suppose I have to.”
“If you want to enjoy the delicious Roman dinner that I’ve got planned, then yes, you have to let me down.”
“I’d rather eat something else, but I guess I can wait.” He set her down and then kissed her head. “I’m a patient man.”
The snort Stazi made wasn’t that encouraging, so he decided to ignore it. “I’m going to learn to become patient. Is that better?”
“Yes.” She gave him a wink and then bent over to take the pan out of the oven.
Groaning, he lifted his beer and drank half of it down. “Is tonight a date where you go home after dinner or is this a sleepover date?”
She slid the pan onto the counter and gave him a smile. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“If there is anything I can do to sway you, please let me know.”
She placed the two roasted artichokes on a plate and fussed with the arrangement. He continued, “Really, Staz…anything at all.”
“Hank, I’m trying to be mature and not use sex to fix
things between us. When you say things like that, it makes it extremely hard.”
“I’ve got something extremely hard,” he said quietly. “Maybe we can wait on the maturity until tomorrow and start by showing our love for one another with our bodies.”
He watched her fight a smile and prayed his argument was working. “We can be mature first thing in the morning.”
“Fine.”
Moving in her direction, he was stopped by a spatula. “What?”
“After dinner.”
He took a step back and held up his hands. “Got it. Eat first and then we make love.”
“Go sit down and behave.”
“Okay, honey.” He walked around to the other side of the island and folded his hands. If she wanted him to act like a gentleman, then he would. Whatever it took to make her happy was what he was going to do from here on out.
Stazi Ivanov loved him and she was going to take him on, so as far as he was concerned, he didn’t need another thing in his life. Except….no, he wasn’t going to think it. It would just get him in trouble and he’d already had plenty of that.
***
Stazi looked at Hank across the couch and enjoyed the foot massage he was giving her. “How are things at SAI?”
“Busy. We have a new guy joining us next week, his name is Ed Stillman and he just left DELTA.”
“That’s a spec ops job, right?”
“Yes, it’s the elite special mission unit of the Army. They’re under the command of JSOC and are used for hostage rescue and counter-terrorism as well as direct action and reconnaissance against high-value targets. They’re the counterpart to the Navy’s DEVGRU SEAL Team 6.”
“I guess you’re glad to have him join the company, then.”
“Absolutely. He’s a great guy and we’re lucky to get him.”
“When I was over at my parents’ house the other day, I was talking to my dad and he told me a little bit about his time in Afghanistan. He’d never really shared any stories before and I found it fascinating.”
Watching his eyes lift, she knew he was worried about something. “What?”
